His Story
by ShadowPillow
Summary: An old man named Edward Elric tells one of his stories to a little girl named Claus.


A/N: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I'm supposed to update Alternate Identity... I just have to type up the next chapter but I got stuck revising an icky part on it. So I've been writing all these oneshots instead. Here is another one, loosely based on the OVA Kids. Everything's post-Shamballa, so here's Ed as an old man, telling part of his story to a young girl, named Claus (like the girl in Forger's Love). It's such a fairytale story though... I know it's been done before, but it just seems really sweet. A bit idealistic though, that's what I thought when reading it. Not the actual thing itself, but just the whole writing of it, the description of Ed and everything. But I still really liked writing it, so here we go :)

By the way, kids are polite, since this is post-WWII. Or sometimes before. I think people were raised to be more polite back then, and Claus was a good kid.

* * *

><p><strong>H<strong>is** S**_tory_

* * *

><p>An old man sat in the corner of the train compartment. His eyes looked longingly out the window, an arm propped up on the windowsill. He looked lonely, ever so lonely, and it pulled something at me. I had the feeling if I only walked up to him, talking to him, he'd be all right.<p>

"Mister?" A crinkly smile appeared at my voice and he turned. His eyes no longer so longing. Instead... full, determined, sharp. Yet filled with warm kindness as he looked at me. Looked at me with smiling eyes.

"Hello." His voice was distinct, raspy with the tired weariness of experience, yet too, the powerful vigor of youth, as if even after all the terrible, wondrous things he had seen, he would keep on going. At least that's what I thought. It seemed to suit him, this perception, this image I attached to him. I wanted to believe it was true, that there was a brave man of both experience and strength. That really, there existed the wise in this world.

I hadn't heard him speak. I realized when he stared at me expectantly, that he must have asked me a question. I felt a blush spreading on my cheeks.

"Sorry, Mister! I didn't hear you." He gave a soft laugh, leathery yet strong.

"It's fine. I only asked what your name was." Again, I marveled at his attitude. So carefree and kind despite his obvious age.

"It's Claus," I blurted out after an awkward pause. "My name is Claus."

"Claus?" he said musingly. My cheeks were still flushed; had he not noticed how I had been staring? "It's nice to meet you, Claus."

"It's – It's nice to meet you too, sit!" I stammered, then hesitantly, "What's your name?" He smiled.

"Edward Elric." There was a finality to it, a wondering quality that left me curious. He wasn't a simple old man, I had decided that already. SO what was the story behind his name? Why did it hold so much wonder to him, him who had possessed it all his life?

"Mister Elric..." I started cautiously, "What's your story?" His eyes registered surprise, then back to warm amusement.

"My story? Why would you want to hear the story of an old man like me?" But his eyes twinkled with a soft light, and I knew he would tell me. So I waited.

At last, he began.

"I once knew a little girl just like you. Her name was also Claus..."

I listened with rapt attention as he told his story. A story of wonder and magic. No, not magic. Alchemy. An _alchemist _named Majihal and a girl named Claus who had lost her sister... Two brothers, Edward and Alphonse Elric who had stopped the bad alchemist from stealing the girl's soul. And then... desperation. Majihal had died, unable to accept that the old woman before him could have been his beloved Karine.

"And your brother?" I asked finally, when his story was done. "What happened to him?" Now, he had that longing look again.

"Al is – Al's with me now. Here. Maybe not in this train, but I know he's alive out there..." Suddenly, he returned to the present and focused his full attention on me. It left me squirming slightly, even as he smiled. "That was only one of our stories, a long time ago. But now –" He stood up with a great sigh. "– I'm afraid I have to go. It's my stop." Then he grinned, and I saw him like he must've been so long ago. Burning brilliant.

The Fullmetal Alchemist.

Then he turned away, suitcase in hand, and left.


End file.
